Der Glückliche Prinz
by justplainrii
Summary: Mytho returns home to his kingdom with Rue, ready for a happily ever after. Neither of them expected a tyrant mouse to be there already, out to keep them from reaching it. Meanwhile, Fakir has surprises of his own to deal with...
1. The Happy Prince

_Once upon a time, a man died._

_The man was a writer of stories, filled with princes and princesses, adventure and romance. However, every single one of his stories seemed to end in tragedy, and although many people loved them, many wondered why there was not a happy ending to be found among them._

_The man died as he was writing the story of a brave prince and a cruel raven, leaving their tale unfinished. Both the prince and the raven were outraged. The prince believed that he could have a happy ending; the raven, however, believed that victory was his to own._

_With the force of their anger, the prince and the raven both left the story out of their own free will, to decide their fates without the influence of the storyteller. _

_However, this was not without consequence._

_For, even without its prince, the story of his kingdom remained._

-///-

Kapitel 1  
Der Glückliche Prinz

-///-

Mytho peered fondly over the side of the swan-drawn chariot as fields and forests raced below, holding onto his crown as wind threatened to blow it off his head. It had been far too long since he had seen such familiar environs, much less from such a different perspective! The sight thrilled him beyond imagining, and his newly-restored heart beat wildly within his chest.

The only thing that could possibly make him more excited would be the sight of his home, his castle. He was sure that he would see it immediately, with the blue flag that bore his family's crest flying proudly from the highest tower—as soon as they drew nearer, that is.

Still, he thought, he and Rue would arrive soon. By sunset, at least; for he knew that the furthest forests from his castle took only a half a day at the most to reach on horseback, and the swans that drew them forward were certainly faster than any horse he could think of. On top of that, the day was still young; the harsh noon sun had yet to grace the sky.

With a warm smile, he leaned over and placed his head near Rue's, sighing contentedly. "It won't be long now," he told her, holding her hand. "We'll be home soon."

"Home..." Rue replied, her eyes distant. "That'll be nice, won't it?"

"Absolutely," Mytho replied. "There'll be feasts waiting for us when we get back, I'm sure, and smiling faces." His brown eyes grew warm at the memories. "I miss those smiling faces."

"Well, they'll be happy to see you, certainly," Rue said, a sting of coldness in her voice. Her eyes dropped. "Me, well... I suppose that's another matter."

Mytho looked at her concernedly, picking himself off her shoulder. "What do you mean?"

"Well.. it's how I am, isn't it?" she replied, not looking at him. "Unloved by all but my prince. That's how it was written, wasn't it? Just like you are the prince who loves all, and-"

"That's not true," Mytho interrupted, touching her cheek. Her eyes met his. "Ahiru and Fakir both care for you, too; don't forget about them. Without their love for us, we wouldn't be here now."

Rue didn't say anything, though her eyes didn't leave his. He continued. "That story is _over_. It's time for us to create our _own_ story, now," he said. He smiled. "And in this story, you are my love, and I _promise_ you, _nobody_ will hate you."

She was silent for a good long while, before finally, a smile touched her face. "You're right," she said. "I'm sorry for that."

"Sorry for what?"

"Making you worry, I guess... Oh, nevermind," she said, and laughed. "This isn't any way to start off a story, is it? What with me worrying..."

Mytho laughed back, a light laugh; however, her smile suddenly faded again.

"Do you suppose... they'll like me?" she asked.

"Who'll like you?"

"All the people of your kingdom. I've never met them before," she said.

Mytho smiled and brushed some of her hair behind her ear. "Of course they'll like you," he said. "You don't need to worry about that at all."

She took a rather deep breath in, before looking to the horizon and where, she supposed, her new home lay. "I'll try my best not to," she said, before lapsing into a small bought of giggles. "My goodness, I'm being so irrational..."

-///-

It didn't take long for news of the prince's return to reach the castle. After all, townsfolk and peasants all across the countryside could see as his chariot sailed across the sky and towards the castle, with even the occasional greeting from the prince himself!

Naturally, his mother was highly interested in this turn of events, and was there to greet him when his chariot descended from the air and into the outer courtyard of the palace.

She was quite beside herself.

"Siegfried...?" she said, her hand near her mouth as she watched her son disembark and notice her. "Siegfried, is that you?"

"...Mother?"

With a rustle of wide skirts, she quickly had her arms around him. "Siegfried, my darling! You've returned!" she cried. "Oh, how I've missed you!"

Mytho, needless to say, was rather astonished. Still, he managed to bring some words to the tip of his tongue. "Mother... my name is Mytho, isn't it?"

Immediately, she stopped crying. "What are you talking about? No, your name is Siegfried, darling, my darling boy..." she said, stroking his hair. "Oh, has something happened to your memory?"

"N-no, mother, I'm sorry," he said quickly—that's right, his name really _was_ Siegfried. He had grown so accustomed to the one Fakir had given him that he almost didn't recognize it as the true name. "Oh, I've missed you too!" Happily, he hugged her back.

Meanwhile, a small troupe of footmen had descended upon the chariot to help Rue down—a pleasant surprise for her.

"Mother, I've got so much to tell you!" he said, once she had let go of him. "The places I've been..."

"Oh, you must tell me at once," she replied. She suddenly leaned in, an almost conspiratorial look on her face. "Did you ever find that girl you ran off to find?"

"Girl?" Mytho blinked, as several footmen complimented Rue on her beautiful hair. She blushed.

"Oh, surely you remember," his mother replied, waving her hands around. "You hosted such a lovely ball, and I was certain that you'd found yourself a girl from the way you played around with her..." She folded her arms. "And then, all of a sudden, you just rushed out of the castle with Benno, yelling about your true love being taken away from you. So," she concluded, leaning forward again, "did you find her?"

"Ah..." Mytho said, as the memories came flooding back.

There had been a girl, but he couldn't remember her face—but he knew that she was not the one he loved, and that the raven was responsible. So he ran out, determined to kill the raven, and...

Oh, yes. That's when his knight—Benno was his name, wasn't it?—had been killed, and his heart broken into pieces.

It wasn't a very pleasant memory. He gulped. "I'm... not quite sure, mother," he replied, "if she's the girl from the ball... But I found my true love all the same, that I can be sure."

His mother's eyebrows delightedly rose. "Oh, what news! Where is she? Is that her?" She pointed to Rue, who was currently laughing with the footmen. A swan had bitten one of them on the nose.

Mytho beamed. "That's her," he said. "Her name is Rue."

His mother smiled. "My goodness, so my son has chosen well," she said, folding her arms with a pleased expression on her face. "She's indeed worthy of your love, with such a beautiful face. She has the same, kind eyes as you."

Rue would have been as red as a radish, Mytho thought, from what his mother was saying about her. "She's a kind person, indeed," he replied.

"Are you... betrothed?" she asked. Mytho thought for a moment, and then nodded, smiling. "Wonderful! I'll have preparations made for your wedding at once!"

His mother pushed him aside, rushing forward to approach Rue with a smile. "Lady Rue, it is an honor to meet the girl who has stolen my son's heart," she said. "I am Queen Clothilde."

Rue's smile became very nervous all of a sudden—did she know about what she had done as Kraehe?! "I, er... I..." she stammered, when she saw Mytho waving his arms from behind, as if to say, "It's all right, she likes you!"

Rue regained her composure, and gave a gracious smile. "It's an honor to meet you as well. You are Mytho's mother, I presume?"

"Siegfried," she said, with a small chuckle. "Where is this Mytho nonsense coming from?"

"It's... the name I traveled under, while I was away, mother," Mytho explained, stepping forward.. "I've grown rather accustomed to it."

"Is that so? Well, it's quite a pretty name," Clothilde replied, though her voice was devoid of interest. "Do tell me, Siegfried. Where did you and the lady Rue meet?"

The two of them glanced at each other, nervously, not quite sure who would be best to speak first. Rue cleared her throat as she nodded in his direction, so Mytho decided to go for it. "She was captured by the monster raven, mother. I rescued her," he said.

Clothilde's eyebrows rose once more. "The raven? Did you... kill it?"

Mytho nodded, eagerly. "He'll trouble us no longer," he said.

"I thought you did," Clothilde said, smiling. She put her hand on his shoulder. "Come, let's get inside. You'll have so much to tell me, I'm sure..."

While the mother and son continued onward, Rue was hesitant. "Is there something the matter?" Mytho asked her. She shook her head, and took his hand, as Clothilde began to speak again.

"I had a feeling you might have done such a thing while you were out... wherever you were," she said, taking prim, exact steps that clicked on the courtyard stones. "You were making such a fuss about that old raven at the ball, first off. Ah, but you see," She smiled. "The ravens have all but disappeared from the castle, since you left."

"Oh! That's very interesting, mother," Mytho said, haltingly, sensing that Rue was feeling less than comfortable with this subject of conversation.

"Oh yes, it's so funny that way," Clothilde continued, with an almost absent air that usually came with small talk. "Just as soon as the ravens left, the mice moved in."

Mytho and Rue both stopped. "Mice?"

"Oh, yes," Clothilde said, matter-of-factly, as she turned to face them. "They're everywhere."

-///-

Far, far away, where there were no mice at all to worry about, Fakir had begun to write another story.

He sat at the end of the dock, a fishing pole hopefully propped up into the boards, though he didn't expect any fish to bite.

He had written a sizable amount, though he was unsure of how good it was.

"Ahiru," he called.

The little duck, who had been napping in the water, raised her head. "Qua-?"

"Tell me how this sounds, okay?" he asked.

She smiled (as best a duck could smile, anyways) with a reassuring "Quack."

Fakir cleared his throat. "Here goes, then."

_"Once upon a time, in a fair and glorious city, there was a statue._

_"The statue was of a Prince, whose name had long been forgotten, so they simply called him "The Happy Prince," for the warm and beautiful smile on his face._

_"He was covered in fine gold leaf, with two blue sapphires for eyes, and a ruby the size of a strawberry on the handle of his staff._

_"Every day, the people of the city saw his smiling face, and approved of his presence, for he seemed to make the very air around him more cheerful." _

"How is it?" he asked her, after a good long silence. 

"Quack!" she replied, flapping her wings a little for emphasis.

"You like it, huh?" he said, with a smile. She nodded. "All right, I'll go on." He stroked his chin with the feather from his pen. "I was thinking about what sort of bird to add next."

"Quack?" said Ahiru.

"Yeah, a bird. And not a duck, before you ask," he added, with a smile. Ahiru gave him a mock pout. "Something light. A sparrow, maybe?" Ahiru continued to sullenly paddle beneath him, disappearing under the dock. "Come on, Ahiru, ducks can't land on statues."

"Quack!" she replied, indignantly.

"Oh, so you think they can? Have you ever tried?" he said, craning his neck and attempting to catch a swatch of yellow feathers between the boards.

"Quack..."

"Then who are you to say? I think a sparrow is a good choice," Fakir said, and began putting his pen to paper.

It was then that there came a sound of bells, and a tremendous explosion. Fakir's pen went zooming across the page as he startled, spoiling the rest of the paper. Ahiru fluttered beneath the dock, with a series of frantic quacks.

"Wh-what was that?!" he said, managing, just barely, to not fall over. "Ahiru, are you okay?"

"Qua-ack..." she replied, as voices from their cottage were faintly heard.

"Is this the right place?"

"I don't know, do you think this is the right place?"

"Plum told us that the bell would take us there, exactly. So this must be the place."

"But I don't see him!"

Fakir got out of his chair, placing the ruined story beside him, and carefully exited the dock. The voices, which seemed to be coming from the front of the cottage, continued.

"Maybe he's inside."

"It's likely."

"Yeah, it's likely. Let's go!"

"Shouldn't we knock, first?"

"Ahem?"

Fakir had folded his arms, discontentedly, as he approached what appeared to be three young intruders in strange and colorful costumes, who didn't seem to be much younger than him.

There were two girls and a boy, one of the girls holding a tremendous, leather-bound book. All of them looked scared out of their wits.

"What are you doing near my house?" Fakir asked them. "Are you looking for someone?"

One of the girls, who was wearing a veil over her mouth and wasn't holding a book, nodded. "Does Herr Drosselmeyer live here?" she asked.

Fakir's stomach froze. Drosselmeyer? What did they want with Drosselmeyer? "Drosselmeyer is dead," he replied, coldly. "He's been for many years."

"But we know that!" the other girl, who held the book, piped. "We're looking for his descendant! I forget his name... what was it, Pep?"

"Fakir," the sole boy said. "Do you know him?"

Ahiru toddled near his feet, as she had gotten out of the water, wanting to see what the matter was. Fakir was frozen. People looking for him? He figured he'd go with the easiest solution. "Why are you looking for him?"

"We have to give him something," the book-carrying girl said, her eyes growing wide. "Oh, what a cute little duck!"

"T, hold your focus!" the boy said, and the book-girl (T?) shrunk back. He then addressed Fakir. "Yes, the book. It's his."

"...huh," said Fakir. He glanced at Ahiru, who blinked back, and he figured it was safe. "It's for me?"

"So you _are_ Fakir?" the book-girl said, her eyes widening even more. "How come you didn't trust us?"

Fakir rolled his eyes. "Three strangers show up at your door, in an explosion no less, and you expect me to trust them?" he said, sighing.

"He's got a point, T," the boy said. T scowled.

"So what's this book?" Fakir continued.

"Well... it's not just the book," the veiled girl said, meekly. "We have come to ask for your assistance, Herr Drosselmeyer."

Fakir was deeply disturbed by the title; he grimaced. "Assistance?" he managed to say.

"A mouse has taken over our kingdom," the boy said, solemnly. "We need your help in getting rid of him."

-///-

A/N:  
Some cultural notes and things for this story.  
- Clothilde is the name that Mercedes Lackey gave to the queen in her novel, "The Black Swan." Seeing as I could find no other suitable names for Mytho's mother, I decided to use it.  
- Benno is a character from the original ballet, Swan Lake. He was a friend of Prince Siegfried.  
- The story Fakir is writing is "The Happy Prince," by Oscar Wilde. It is also the title of this chapter, as well as this fic.

Please review, if you enjoyed it!


	2. The Nutcracker

_Once upon a time, there lived a wise and beautiful prince._

_He was a just ruler, loved by his subjects and citizens. His kingdom was a land of wonderful delights, where sweets grew on trees and the clouds were made of spun sugar._

_Most wonderful of all was the beautiful fairy who advised him in his rule, a kind and gentle soul who made sure that all who lived within the kingdom were content, living peaceful lives._

_However, outside of this perfect kingdom lived an angry mouse and his many children, who were not allowed to enter and spoil the beautiful landscape with their greed. You see, the mice were almost eternally hungry, and would eat anything they saw._

_The wise fairy had banished them from the kingdom, vexing the king of the mice greatly. For years, he stewed in his rage, plotting his revenge._

_Then, one day, he discovered a way to spite the fairy once and for all._

-///-

Kapitel 2

Der Nussknacker

-///-

"Quack?" Ahiru said.

The girl holding the book nodded, as if she could understand her. "Yes, a mouse. And he's a mean old mouse, he is..."

"T..." the boy sighed.

"Sorry..."

"Well, what do you mean by that?" Fakir said, crossing his arms.

"It's a very long story," the veiled girl said. "Um, might we find somewhere to sit? It would be rather awkward to stand, don't you think?"

"Yeah, sure," Fakir said, opening the door to the cottage and ushering them in. "Go ahead and have a seat, if you want." Ahiru nudged his leg with her beak, and he noticed how cold he was sounding. "Ah, um... would you guys like some tea, or something?"

"Sure! I absolutely love tea," the girl holding the book peeped, as she skipped inside.

"Of course you do. It's your name," the boy said, following her inside.

"I know," the book-girl (was it now Tea?) giggled. The veiled girl said nothing. "Oh, that reminds me. We should introduce ourselves, right?"

"I think that'd be a good idea," Fakir said, fetching the teapot. "So, your names are...?"

"My name is Coffee," the veiled girl said, nodding slightly, as if she were bowing.

"I'm Tea!" the other girl said, and before the boy could say anything, she added, "And that's Peppermint, but we call him Pep, for short."

Fakir stared at them as he placed the teapot on the stove. If there were stranger names in the world, then he had yet to hear them. "Nice to meet you," he said stiffly. "I'm Fakir."

"We know that," Tea said, rolling her eyes. Peppermint nudged her.

"Stop being rude," he whispered, none-too-quietly. "He's a Drosselmeyer."

"Oh, sorry," Tea said, and placed the enormous book on the table, folding her arms in her lap. "Um. What a cute duck you have, Fakir!"

Ahiru, who had been hovering around his ankles, looked at Tea with a delighted "Quack!"

"Her name's Ahiru," said Fakir.

"A lovely name," Coffee said placidly.

"Can I hold her?" Tea said, her cheeks pink with pleasure. "Please? I'll be gentle and-"

"You don't need to ask. I'm not her owner," Fakir said, sighing. "Ahiru can make her own decisions."

"That's... strange," said Peppermint, as Tea got off her chair and scooped up Ahiru in her silk-sleeved arms. "I assumed she was a pet."

"Well, she's not," said Fakir, a touch of annoyance in his voice. He glanced at Tea. "Enjoying yourself?"

Tea nodded vigorously, and returned to her seat, stroking Ahiru on the head as she held the duck in her lap.

"So, tell me," Fakir said. "Why are you here in the first place?"

"We need your help in getting rid of the mouse that's taken over our kingdom," Peppermint said, nodding. "And our prince has gone missing too, so if you could help us find him, then that would be a huge help for all of us."

"That's a bit much, if you ask me," Fakir said, his levels of skepticism rising with leaps and bounds. "A mouse _and_ a prince?" He folded his arms. "Just where exactly are you guys from?"

"The Land of Sweets," Coffee replied. Fakir blinked. "Well, it's true..." she added, almost sheepishly.

"Anyways!" Peppermint said, with a rather loud cough. "We had a feeling that you'd be the guy we needed to talk to, so... here we are. Can you help us?"

"Just how do you expect me to help you?" Fakir said.

"That's where the book comes in," Coffee said, ushering her hand towards it. "You_are_ a Drosselmeyer, after all, aren't you?"

Fakir's hand tensed, and his frown deepened just slightly. "Go on," he said, his voice significantly soured.

There was a small silence, before Coffee waved her hand again. "Open the book, if you want to know," she said gently.

Fakir stared at the girl, her deep, dark brown eyes warm and decidedly not the eyes of somebody who wished to harm him. Peppermint had his arms crossed in impatience, and Tea was preoccupied with Ahiru, so he opened the book, unfastening the two large, leather buckles that kept it closed.

Neatly pressed between the cover and the first page was a piece of paper, folded in half and sealed with a wax seal, bearing an ornate letter D. It had already been broken.

"We had to open it when we found it, sorry," Tea said, noting with sparkling eyes that Fakir had opened the book. "Go on, read it!"

Ahiru's eyes were wide with curiosity, attempting to see what everyone else was seeing, as Fakir unfolded the paper and read what was inside.

It was a rather short message.

_If you wish to find the prince, find the nutcracker. But, be wary, my young heir, for you have a clever rival working against you. Use your family's gifts wisely!_

_- Drosselmeyer_

Fakir stared at it, incredulously. "But... Drosselmeyer is dead!" he said. He glared at the three of them. "What sort of trick are you trying to pull?"

"No, no! It's not a trick!" Tea said, clenching her fists in determination. "It's a really old book! The letter was there when we found it!"

He read the letter again. "It's not addressed to me," he concluded, lowly.

"But who else alive is Drosselmeyer's heir?" Peppermint added, sharply.

Fakir paused. He glared. "How do you even know that?" he said.

"Plum knows lots of things," Tea said, pouting.

"And Plum is who...?"

"A very dear friend of ours," Coffee explained. "She provided us with this book. She told us what you did to end the eternal story in Kinkan Town. That _was_ partially your doing, correct?" She questioned him with her warm eyes.

Fakir, momentarily, was speechless. "Well... yes, I suppose," he finally managed to say, wondering how in the world this mysterious Plum knew about him. He figured it would be best not to ask. For all he knew, after all, this Plum could have lived in Kinkan Town... though that still raised the question of how she knew about Fakir's lineage. Could Autor had told her? Did he even know her?

"Ahem?" Peppermint said, snapping Fakir out of his thoughts. "Fakir, you're the only person we know of who fits the criteria of a 'young heir.' So, obviously, you're the only one who can help us with this."

"And what exactly is 'this'?"

"Just read the book already!" Tea said, borderline yelling. Ahiru, startled, flew off of her lap and onto the floor, where she shook her tail for good riddance.

Fakir, still less than trusting of them all, placed Drosselmeyer's letter beside the book, and began to read.

He recognized, uneasily, the familiarly lilting prose that he remembered as Drosselmeyer's. How could he not recognize it? He had spent just about all of his childhood reading the man's stories.

He read of a far-off kingdom, ruled by a wise and beautiful prince.

His thoughts, for a moment, strayed to that of Mytho. How was he doing, anyways?

"Quack!" Ahiru said, nudging his arm. She had made her way onto the table, and was reading along with him.

"Ah, sorry," he said; she must have noticed his eyes straying. He continued.

The prince ruled over a kingdom of wonderful delights, of sweets. Suddenly, he realized something.

"...wait, this is-?" he began.

"Our kingdom," Coffee said, almost mournfully, her eyes lowered. "Please, keep reading."

He did. He read of a mouse (_the _mouse, he figured) that was banished from the kingdom, who suddenly found a way to get his revenge. The prince, mysteriously, disappeared, along with his advisor, and the mouse assumed the throne. It was there that the story ended.

"Is that... what's happened?" he asked. The trio nodded sadly. "So... this mouse is your king, now?"

"That's right," said Peppermint.

"And he's a horrible king, too!" Tea piped, her eyes shining. Fakir realized, almost ashamed, that she was on the verge of tears. "He's ruined everything, and he's hurt so many people..."

"Tea, calm down..." said Peppermint, tiredly. Fakir could see in his eyes that this was something he had dealt with before. Coffee lay a comforting hand on Tea's shoulder, and she sniffed.

"He's hurt several friends of ours," she said quietly.

"I see..." Fakir said, looking over the page of story again, and the sentences that detailed the tyrant's cruel actions.

"Keep reading..." Tea sniffled.

"What, there's more?"

"Of course there's more, it's a huge book!" Tea snapped.

Ahiru helpfully propped up the next page with her beak. Fakir, smiling slightly in spite of himself (and very quickly attempting to wipe it from his face), turned the page.

A new story had started, as if Drosselmeyer (if he was the one that had written it in the first place, which, despite all Fakir wanted to believe, was probably the truth) had decided that the first story was no good, but he didn't feel like ripping it out.

This story had nothing to do with princes and princesses, or even mice. It was a tale of an ordinary family, by all accounts, that was hosting a Christmas party.

"What is this?" Fakir said, playing with the edge of the page, as if he were questioning its reality.

"Just keep reading!" the three of them said, and even Ahiru added a slightly angry "Quack!"

The story had begun to focus on a young girl named Clara, who was unhappily waiting for something interesting at the party to start. Her brother, Fritz, was playing nearby, but she had nobody to play with, herself.

Fakir gasped when he saw the word "Drosselmeyer" on the page, and he could have sworn that the face of the deranged storyteller had flashed in his mind.

A character named Drosselmeyer had shown up, bearing gifts, and Fakir read on in slight shock as he produced harlequin and clown dolls of beautiful clockwork, that sprang to life when he turned the keys in their backs.

As he read, the images that the words were meant to portray became suddenly vivid: he could_see_ the clockwork dolls, he could see them leaping around with beautiful checkered costumes and painted faces.

He saw Clara, a child with thick brown hair and a red dress, with a white bow in her hair. She watched the display with wonder, yet there was a longing, a disappointment in her eyes. The gifts were wonderful, but there were none for her.

The dolls were put away, folding themselves into little balls of limbs and wooden joints, and the disappointment in Clara's eyes grew.

Suddenly, Drosselmeyer approached her—the real Drosselmeyer! Fakir could recognize those crazed brown eyes anywhere.

He held behind his back a small something, before presenting it to Clara.

It was a wooden nutcracker.

Clara took the thing and hugged Drosselmeyer (a disturbing sight in its own right), before happily beginning to dance around the room with the nutcracker.

Suddenly, Drosselmeyer turned around, and looked Fakir straight in the eyes.

"I've given you all your clues, Fakir m'lad," he said, with his aged, gravely voice. "Let's see what you'll do!"

"Quack!"

Suddenly, Fakir was back in his cottage, but the image and voice of Drosselmeyer were burned into his mind.

"What in the world..." he said.

"Did something happen?" Tea asked, as Ahiru worriedly nudged her head under his chin.

"Drosselmeyer, he... No, but that's impossible..." he said softly.

"You saw Drosselmeyer?" said Peppermint.

Slowly, Fakir nodded. "He..." He laughed bitterly. "I can't believe I'm saying this... He spoke to me."

"Woah!" said Tea, and Ahiru echoed the sentiment with an astonished squawk. "Can he... do that?"

"How am I to know?" Fakir replied, almost angrily. "I have no idea what he can and can't do."

"So, what did he tell you?" Coffee asked.

Fakir thought for a moment, trying to remember. "He said... that he had given me all the clues I needed, and he wanted to see what I was going to do," he said, slowly.

"Do you think...?" Coffee began, but Peppermint shrugged.

"Do you think what?" Fakir said.

"Well... maybe he knows what we want to do," Coffee said softly.

"Want to do?"

"We need you to continue the story, Fakir. You're the only one who can."

-///-

A/N:

- Coffee, Tea, and Peppermint are all sweets that have their own dance in the Nutcracker ballet. Coffee is Arabian, Tea is Chinese, and Peppermint is Russian.  
- The title of this chapter refers to, of course, both the story and the ballet "The Nutcracker."


	3. The Silver Shoes

_Once upon a time, there lived a little girl who longed to see other lands._

_She lived in a world without color, where there was nothing but grass for miles and miles. Her little heart grew lonelier and lonelier, until one day, a great wind took her from her home and into a land where color was everywhere._

_The girl was delighted by what she saw, and yet, she began to cry almost immediately after she realized where she had turned up. For she was still a child, and missed her home terribly._

_So, she was sent to a great and terrible wizard, but even he could not help her get home._

_It was then that the little girl suddenly discovered the means to return home, with a pair of enchanted silver shoes. _

_She clicked her heels three times, and before she knew it, a great wind stirred up and dropped her back in her place._

_But even after she had gone home, she couldn't help but wonder if she still had the power to visit the land of color on her own._

_After all, the silver shoes were still in her possession._

-///-

Kapitel 3

Die Silberschuhe

-///-

Fakir slammed the book shut. "You want me to what?!"

The tea kettle began to whistle angrily, and he rushed to tend to it as Coffee and Peppermint attempted to talk to him.

"Well, if Drosselmeyer spoke to you, then obviously, you have to help us-"

"He did tell you to use your gifts wisely, and I certainly think this is wise..."

"-and really, from what he's written, I'd think that he's half-responsible for the whole mess, if not entirely-"

"You're the only person we could go to, Fakir-"

"-and besides, Plum gave us the bell and it brought us to you so-"

"Would you two please be quiet?!" Fakir yelled, slamming the teapot down on a cool burner. Instantly, Coffee and Peppermint were so. "I don't know where you get the idea that I can... somehow help by writing more of the story-"

"But you're a Drosselmeyer," Tea began.

"Yes! Yes, I am fully aware of that!" Fakir snapped. Tea whimpered slightly. "But, seriously! That has nothing to do with anything!"

"But the Drosselmeyers have power over stories," Coffee said quietly. "So, you should too."

"Yeah? And what do you expect me to do with it next?" Fakir said. "You think that, somehow, I can just write the mouse out of the story and have it be all okay?"

"Well, we sorta did want that..." said Tea.

"It's not that simple! Those things... they don't work like that!" he replied, taking the lid off the teapot and angrily tossing in the leaves.

He didn't want to admit that he had tried, desperately, to write a story for Ahiru to become human again.

Each and every time, he could never think of what to write, and ended up tossing the pen away. He always attempted this at night, so Ahiru wouldn't have to see, blissfully unaware as she slept in his dresser drawer, surrounded by socks.

He could tell that, even without the steam, his face was hot—he was blushing. He kept his back determinedly towards his guests.

"Well, of course it won't work _exactly_ like that," Peppermint said, his voice decidedly condescending. "It has to build up. Be realistic. Right?"

"And how would you know that?" said Fakir, lowly.

"S'what Plum told us," he replied, as if that held all the answers.

"Plum... said that there might be problems," Coffee added gently, "with us asking you. It's a lot to ask, we know, but you're the only one who can help us."

Fakir, sincerely wishing that his face still wasn't red, whipped around in anger. "You keep going on about this Plum person. How come she's not with you, huh, if she holds all the answers?" he yelled.

He was about to say more, when he noticed Ahiru looking very scared indeed, hiding near Tea's ankles. He glared, feeling absolutely horrible. "Excuse me," he said, and stormed outside.

"Fakir!" Peppermint called, but he had already gotten to the dock, angrily sitting at the edge with his legs crossed.

In a word, he was overwhelmed. The day, which had been otherwise pleasant and calm, was throwing far too much at him at once to handle. First the strange visitors, then the message from Drosselmeyer, and now this?

He clenched his right fist. The scar he had given himself from stabbing the hand with the knife still hadn't fully healed, much less completely gone away.

He didn't want to go back to doing that! Much less to help three people, no, an entire_kingdom_ that he knew nothing about!

A gentle breeze blew in towards the lake, and the story of the Happy Prince brushed against him. He stared at it, the words swaying, indecipherable, as the paper shivered and struggled to fly away.

Not quite knowing the reason why, Fakir tore it into pieces with angry shouts.

He flung the ruined paper into the water, and bitterly watched the pieces get soggy and eventually sink.

"Quack?"

A soft nudge of feather and beak against his hand revealed that Ahiru had arrived, giving him worried glances.

"Oh... You saw that, huh?" he said. She nodded. He sighed deeply. "Well... you can understand, can't you? I don't... I don't want to have to go through all that again!"

She looked at him with an either pitiful or pitying expression, and he fell silent once more. "Ahiru, don't look at me like that," he finally said, but she didn't let up, nuzzling her beak under his hand again. "Stop that!"

She looked at him again, but this time, she glared. The strange intensity behind her eyes almost startled him. "What, you think I should... help them?" he said.

"Quack," she said, resolutely.

"Ahiru, we..." he said, after telling it to himself several times, "we don't even know these people." His eyes dropped, and he sighed. "Don't you just... want to live peacefully here, without things like this to bother us? Isn't that enough?"

"Quack!" Ahiru said, and bit him.

She bit hard. "Ow! Ahiru, what'd you-?" he began, to find her glaring at him again. This time, she really did startle him.

He rubbed his sore hand, as her feathers puffed up around her in anger. He was reminded, fleetingly, of how she would puff up her cheeks as a human, whenever she was angry.

What sort of thing would she be telling him in this instance, anyways? Probably something like, "Stop being so selfish, Fakir! These people need you; you're the only one who can help, and you're just gonna ignore them?"

"...I'm not being selfish," he mumbled.

"Quack...?" Ahiru said, having no idea what Fakir was thinking. However, he said no more.

He stared into the water, barely able to make out his reflection. A few pieces of The Happy Prince still remained, floating on the surface and dangerously close to disintegrating or sinking.

He was suddenly reminded of Drosselmeyer's letter.

"Use your family's gifts wisely," it had told him. He thought about it, repeating the words aloud. "Use my family's gifts wisely...?"

Suddenly, he realized it. What better way to clear the name of the Drosselmeyer family than to give another one of his unfortunate stories (if that was indeed the case) a happy ending, before it got any worse?

Thinking about it that way, it didn't seem so bad at all. In fact, it was something he almost _wanted_ to do.

It was something that would make him almost proud, something that would make the fact that he shared a gift with a madman all the easier to swallow and cope with.

He looked up, and smiled very slightly. "I'll do it," he said.

"Quack?!" Ahiru said, delightedly. In a single motion, he scooped her up into the crook of his arm.

"I've got nothing else to do," he continued, returning to the cottage and managing to sound passably dry and disinterested. "Plus, they really need _my_ help, and mine alone, don't they? It's not like they can go to anyone else."

"Quack!" Ahiru agreed, smiling as best a duck could smile at his tone. Typical Fakir.

Needless to say, the strange trio of guests waiting for them were quite wary, and looked positively frightened as Fakir opened the door.

Nevertheless, he smiled at them. "I decided to help you," he said.

Tea sprang out of her chair like a firecracker, and soon had him wrapped in a very, very tight hug.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" she squealed. "Thank you, Herr Drosselmeyer!"

"Don't... call me... that...!" Fakir grunted, barely managing to breathe. Ahiru, thankfully, had flown out of his arms before Tea could constrict her as well.

"Ah, I'm sorry!" Tea said, letting go. "You don't like that, I forgot!"

Fakir shook his head as he caught his breath. "Just... call me... Fakir..."

"Okay, okay!" she said. "Guys, he's gonna help us!" she trilled, bouncing around a little.

"Hold up," Fakir said, forcing himself into a scowl to mask his embarrassment. Instantly, Tea stopped bouncing. "I'll help you, but... I don't really know where to start. So you guys better have some ideas."

Surprisingly (and thankfully) nobody laughed. Coffee, however, gently smiled, and picked up the book from the table. "Well, we've all read what's been written inside this book," she said, running her fingers over the fine leather cover, "and we all think that the most important thing would be to find a way for us to find that nutcracker."

"Or, more easily, find a way to bring that nutcracker to _us_," Peppermint added, nodding.

"I see," Fakir said, nodding. It _did_ seem like the best course of action... "So... do you want me to keep writing in the story and try to... do that, somehow?"

"That seems like the best thing to do," Coffee said, with a warm smile.

"Well, I can try," Fakir said, crossing his arms.

"Oh yeah, and, uh, one more thing," Tea added, fidgeting greatly.

Instantly, Fakir smelled trouble. "What is it...?" he said, wrinkling his eyebrows.

"We, uh, kinda want you to come back to the Land of Sweets with us."

"What?"

"Well, it's the only thing we can do, really, if you think about it," Peppermint explained, attempting to sound as cool as possible. "I mean, we can't leave the book with you, otherwise we'd never know if you're helping us or not, or how you're doing it."

"Plus, we can't really stay here with you," Tea added uncomfortably before Fakir could speak, her eyes focused on the floor. "There's people back home that we have to take care of..."

"Any way you look at it," Coffee concluded, "you'll have to come with us."

Ahiru nudged Fakir's ankle with her beak, and Fakir didn't even have to look at her face to know that she'd never let him say no. So, instead, he said, "How do you plan on getting me there, then?"

Coffee smiled. "With this."

She produced out of her enormous, nut-brown sleeves a small, shining silver bell. "Plum gave us this. It brought us to you, and it'll bring us back as well."

Fakir peered at it, his desire to find out just who, exactly, this Plum person was rising intensely. "How does it do that...?" he asked.

"It's a charmed bell!" Tea piped. "'One ring to bring you there, one ring to bring you back,' she told us."

"I see..." said Fakir. "So... it'll bring us _all_ back?"

"It should," said Peppermint.

"Even Ahiru?"

"...like I said, it_should..._" Peppermint said uneasily, his eyes very deliberately avoiding Fakir's. Fakir crossed his arms again, not in the mood for uncertainty in such important matters.

"You'll just need to hold onto her, I think," Coffee said comfortingly. "We all had to hold hands when getting here."

Ahiru looked up at Fakir, giving him her best duck-smile. At least her eyes were reassuring.

Fakir took a deep breath in, and then exhaled. "All right," he said. "But first, let me pack some things, okay?"

Of course, the trio was more than happy to oblige him this.

They now had a Drosselmeyer on their side.

-///-

A/N:

- The title of this chapter is a reference to The Wizard of Oz. Unlike the movie's ruby slippers, the book had Dorothy acquire a pair of shining silver shoes. Hence the reference.


End file.
